Shipwrecked
by mashimoshi
Summary: During a storm, Anne and Aramis get shipwrecked. Stuck in the middle of nowhere, in nothing but a small, wooden boat, their chances of survival are pretty slim.
1. Chapter 1

**Another story for you guys! This one is also an Aramis and Anne one, so I hope you don't mind. I also have big plans for this one, so get ready!**

 **Please, make sure to read and review!**

 **-M**

* * *

Aramis gasped as his back painfully hit the ship's railing. His eyes frantically searched for Anne, his vision slightly blurry from the water dripping down his face.

When locating her, he lunged forward just as the ship shifted in another direction. He jumped on top of her and pulled her into his arms, just a lightning struck their vessel.

Hearing her cry out quietly, Aramis quickly got her up, helping her along with him. "Come on, Anne," he yelled through the pouring rain. "I am sorry, but we will have to jump!"

And without waiting for his Queen to reply, he dashed for the ship's edge. He took a quick look to try and find the lifeboat, and when he did, he took a deep breath and, while still holding onto Anne's hand, jumped into the cold, stormy waters.

Almost immediately, the two of them were tossed back and forth over and over again. Aramis held onto Anne throughout the entire time.

Finally, he saw the lifeboat.

He began swimming towards it, looking back at Anne every once in awhile. Soon enough, he reached the surface. The two of them gasped for air, holding onto the lifeboat for deal life.

"Get on the boat," said Aramis, jerking his head towards the dark sky. He inched himself closer to her, and pushed her up top. Then, once hearing the faint thud of body hitting ground, he pushed himself on top of the small boat, collapsing once he succeeded in his goal. He closed his eyes, all his energy leaving him. Cold water surrounded him; he began to shiver.

He suddenly felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he jerked. He forced his eyes back open, smiling weakly when he saw a concerned Anne in front of him.

"Aramis?" she asked.

The Musketeer sat up, reaching out his hand. "Come," he said.

Anne happily obeyed, nesting herself in Aramis' chest. The Musketeer moaned quietly, and she quickly looked up.

Aramis smiled weakly. "I probably damaged a rib," he explained. "But I will be just fine."

Anne nodded and closed her eyes, feeling her protector trembling against her. She couldn't help but push herself further into his embrace. Soon enough, she began to grow tired, and couldn't stop herself from falling asleep.

The last thing she remembered was Aramis, planting a gentle kiss to her head.

XxXxX

When she woke up, she had thought that all of this was a dream. But when she heard water crashing and felt herself rocking back and forth, she understood that this was all dream. It was still raining, although the previous storm had turned into a small drizzle.

Looking up, she saw Aramis above her, sound asleep.

His hair was was still slightly damp, drops of water making their way down his handsome face. Shivers traveled up and down his slumped body, and his 'damaged' ribs were causing him to breath raspily. He looked so tired. He had probably tried to force himself to stay awake so that he would be able to keep her safe.

Anne sighed, taking his limp hand and pressing it close to her chest. She studied his calloused fingers, his blistered skin. She wondered how such a hard working hand could be so gentle at the same time…

"Did you rest?" His sudden voice made her gasp. She looked up to find Aramis watching her. His eyes were soft and full of kindness, but carried plenty of sadness and pain as well.

The Queen nodded, sitting up. She looked around and noticed that they were nowhere near their destroyed ship. "The crew did not make it, did they?" she asked as realization hit her.

Aramis shook his head. "Even if they did survive the shipwreck, they most definitely did not survive the storm," he said sadly, his eyes falling unfocused.

After a moment of silence, Anne finally said, "Aramis, I'm afraid."

Hearing this, Aramis' eyes refocused. He let out a breath before saying, "Anne, everything will be just fine. I will do everything I can to get you home. I promise you." He brought his lips to kiss her forehead gently, trying to provide her with some kind of reassurance. "Right now, all you can do is save your strength. We will probably need it for later."

Anne hung her head. "And to think that all this happened because I wanted a break … from everything," she muttered. Guilt began washing over her. _It was because of me that the ship's crew is dead,_ she thought to herself.

Aramis sighed once more and turned himself around, looking at the boat's bench seat. He opened it, thankful that it was filled with the provisions he had asked for before they left. He took out a water skin and opened it, letting Anne take a small sip. "We will have to save our food, drink very little. We do not know how long we will be out here," he explained, tilting his head back to let the water slide down his throat.

When he finished, he put the skin away and looking back at Anne, who was patiently waiting for him. He reached for her hand, pulling her into his arms once interlocking his fingers with her own. He threw his head against the wall behind him, closing his eyes. "Just sleep," he said. "I will keep watch."

"But … but you need sleep…?"

He smiled at her concern. "I will be alright," he replied.

"Aramis, you cannot protect me if you are too exhausted to even stand," Anne said in a slightly scolding tone. "Right now, I am in no danger. That means you can sleep. Do not make me order you to rest." She smirked at her last sentence, gently taking Aramis' face in one hand. "Please," she continued. "For me."

"You know, you are very persuasive, Anne," said Aramis. He kissed her ever so gently. "I will try to rest. But no promises."

Anne kissed him back, running her hand through messy brown locks. "Thank you," she whispered, pulling away and resting her head against his chest. Once again, sleep claimed her. She only hoped that it would claim Aramis, too.


	2. Chapter 2

**New chapter! I hope you enjoy. Please make sure to read and review!**

 **Also, here is a little brief history: This fic is set in Season 3. I was kinda unsure if I should do that or not, but I think it works. Tell me what you think!**

 **Anyway, I will see you again soon!**

 **-M**

* * *

"What do you mean their ship may have crashed?!" King Louis yelled, his eyes wide. "Explain yourself, Treville!"

The Minister took a deep breath. "Your Majesty, as you now, Her Majesty, the Queen, had decided to take a small trip, a vacation if you will, and took the Musketeer Aramis with her. From what we have figured out, the ship was destroyed during this previous storm. We have found a crew member, who had washed up on shore a few hours ago. He does not know if Her Majesty and the Musketeer have survived." He paused. "But if they are indeed alive, Aramis will get our Queen to safety. It is his duty … And he will not fail it."

Louis growled softly. "Very well, Treville, I will take your word on it. But if your Musketeer does come back to Paris without the Queen of France with him, unharmed, the first thing he will face is the noose."

Treville took a step back. He bowed, disbelief filling up inside him. "Very well, Majesty. I will keep you informed."

"You had better," Louis warned.

He stood up from his throne and marched out of the room. "The Musketeer Aramis," he muttered to himself. "Why did I even allow this? He and Anne … Anne and him. Oh God, that Spanish…"

He continued mumbling until he reached his room. He plopped onto his bed and let out a breath. As he thought of ways to punish Aramis, he began falling asleep.

In the meantime, Treville rushed to get to the Musketeer's garrison. "Athos!" he yelled. "Porthos! d'Artagnan!"

The three men walked out to meet their former Captain, and Treville was quick to explain the situation. When he was done, he watched as Porthos dropped onto a bench.

The big man held his head in his hands, sighing. "This can't be happening," he said. "This can't be happening."  
"Porthos, Aramis knows what to do in these situations," Athos explained. "The two of them will be just fine, I'm sure."

"There's more," said Treville. "The King suspects Aramis and the Queen, he knows. He has warned me that if Her Majesty comes out of this harmed, our Musketeer will be executed."

D'Artagnan pounded his fist against the table. "That is truly ridiculous!" he exclaimed.

"Do not worry," Athos continued. "Aramis will get the Queen back safe. He knows what he needs to do, and he will do everything to do it."

XxXxX

They floated in the middle of nowhere for hours on end. As Anne slept, Aramis kept track of the time- or… tried to. After some time, he began trying to make a plan… a plan to survive. He would get his lover to safety no matter what, he kept telling himself.

But slowly, exhaustion had started taking its toll against him, and he had to force himself to stay awake.

"Aramis?" Anne suddenly asked.

He looked down. "Yes, Anne?" he said, unable to hide the exhaustion in his voice. "And before you say anything, I did sleep … or, I tried to." He smirked. "But I couldn't."

As Anne sat up, she noticed that lying beside Aramis, was a sheathed dagger. She sighed. "You should have slept. It would have done you some good."

The man chuckled. "Anne, I am fine," he said. "And I will be fine. Do not worry about me." He smiled, and then yawned. "You know, I wonder how the Dauphin is doing," he said quietly.

"And Louis," Anne added. "I know he does not care about me, but I am sure that his jealousy will get the better of him. I afraid of what is to happen to you if we get home."

Aramis shook his head. "I can take care of myself," he said. "I can handle His Majesty." He yawned once more, and he closed his eyes. "Hmm," he moaned. "Maybe I do need some rest." Just then, the sound of thunder sounded. Anne felt Aramis flinch.

She sat up. "And what did I tell you?" She smirked, but her eyes softened. "You need sleep, Aramis."

The man nodded, his eyes full of exhaustion. "I know," he whispered, throwing his head back. "I know. I only hope that there will be no upcoming storm." He reached for their water skin, and some dry food. He let Anne take a small drink, and then gave her the food. Once they ate, the two of them got comfortable, with Anne curled up against Aramis' body, and Aramis protectively holding onto Anne.

"Good night, Aramis," the Queen finally said, taking his hand.

The Musketeer brought her small hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. "Good night, Anne," he whispered, finally letting himself to fall asleep.

XxXxX

Anne woke up to a freezing wave crashing on top of her. Her eyes darted towards Aramis, who was covering her as best he could, trying to keep her safe. After a couple of long hours, the storm ended, and Aramis finally rolled off of Anne, curling into himself beside her. "Anne, are you alright?" His voice was hoarse, as if he had just eaten sandpaper.

When not hearing a reply, he asked again. He received quiet hum in return. He felt her crawl over to him, one gentle hand running up and down his strong arm, the other in his soaked hair. He closed his eyes, feeling the warm sun shining over him. Anne carefully propped him against the boat, looking him over. She quickly reached for their water skin, letting Aramis take a few small sips.

The water felt so nice against his dry throat; he almost whimpered when it was taken away. The next thing he knew, she was sitting against him, drawing patterns on his chest with her finger. His body was shaking violently, but he refused to let out any sound that would uncover that.

"Aramis," Anne said. "It's alright. You don't have to hide anything from me."

The Musketeer didn't reply… he couldn't. He closed his eyes, trying hard to stop shivering. "Dear God," he murmured. "I need to get you out of here." He rested his head on the boat's rim, keeping his eyes shut. "I need … to get you … out of here."


	3. Chapter 3

**Another chapter!! Enjoy! Please make sure to review.**

 **Also, this is for any confusions: This story is taking place somewhere during the third season, before Grimaud really came into the picture. Louis suspects our favorite couple to be in love, and that is why he is so freaked out about this all. That's basically it. I hope that helps.**

 **Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!!**

 **-M**

* * *

They survived on that tiny little lifeboat for what seemed like a week. By the third day, Aramis knew that the only thing he could do was rest. So he and Anne slept most of the time, curled into each other on the ground. And Aramis always made sure that his Anne was at least somewhat more comfortable than him.

But Anne could sense that her protector was slowly growing weak. She knew that he was giving her more food than he was giving himself. She also knew that she was getting most of the water. Once, she had even tried to convince him to take more food for himself, but Aramis was having none of it. She hated seeing him so tired, and hurt.

They had been sleeping soundly, when Aramis felt a shadow above them. He slowly opened his eyes, and realized that they were, both, saved and doomed. "Anne," he said to the woman lying beside him. He shook her shoulder gently. "Anne, wake up."

The Queen moaned, her blue eyes cracking open. "What's wrong?" she asked. She gasped at what she saw before her.

It was a ship, floating right near their life boat. On it, there were men looking down on them, and Anne immediately realized that they were not just regular people:

They were bandits.

"This is not good," said Aramis. "Whatever you do, don't you dare tell them who you are."

Anne nodded. And then the next thing she knew, they were pushed onto the wooden deck of the new vessel. She heard Aramis grunt quietly as he hit the ground, his hand reaching for his shoulder. He quickly sat up and made his way over to her, ready to protect her.

A man, whom Aramis presumed as the leader, walked up to them, slowly looking his two captives over. He was rather old, maybe forty, had dark, black hair on his head, and looked extremely confident about himself. He smirked. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice emotionless. "Tell me, and spare yourselves a lot of trouble."

Neither of them said a word.

As if to prove his point, the man grabbed Aramis and delivered a hard blow to the Musketeer's handsome face.

Aramis' head snapped back and hung to the side as he fought off the heavy burning sensation spreading inside him. He spit some blood on the ground and then looked back up, keeping silent.

"Alright, then let me introduce myself," the leader said angrily. "My name is Flea, and I am the leader of the men standing around you. I can only promise that you will only the suffer during the time you are here. You can count on it." He looked at the bandits standing behind him. "Lock them in the cellar, and make sure they are not armed. I will begin having fun with them tomorrow."

His men quickly obeyed. One of them grabbed Anne, and two of them went for Aramis. They were led to a trap door, and when it was open, they were pushed in.

Out of instinct, Aramis caught Anne as he hit the ground. Once making sure she was alright, the marksman stood up and climbed the ladder that was connected to this trap door. He tried to open it, but it was locked. He realized that there was no way out.

He jumped back down and began walking towards Anne.

"Well at least it's warm," he said, reaching for Anne's hand and helping her up. The poor woman looked around her and sighed, letting her head fall onto Aramis' chest. "And clean." She heard him say.

He wrapped his strong arms around her, and kissed the top of her head. "Do not worry, Anne, I will get you out of here," he said softly. "I promise, no harm will come to you."

XxXxX 

They knew night had fallen when it got colder. When it did, Aramis knew that the two of them just needed to sleep through it. So he pushed himself against a wall and gathered Anne into his secure arms.

For the first hour or so they just talked. They talked about whatever entered their minds. Thanks to that, they fell asleep.

Every once in a while, Aramis would force himself to wake up, just to check that Anne was doing alright, but also to make sure that these bandits weren't coming. This left him more exhausted and paranoid than he would have liked.

He gasped awake when he heard a loud thump a couple of feet away from him. He opened his eyes to see Flea standing before him. Again.

"Let's begin shall we?" he asked mercilessly. He pulled Aramis away from Anne and forced him to the ground, holding his foot against his captive's chest. Suddenly taking out a pistol, he planted a bullet into Aramis' side.

The viscous sound made Anne scream awake, and the agonizing pain made Aramis cry out.

The Queen had her hand over her mouth as she stared at Aramis, tears forming in her eyes. The man curled into a loose ball, his hand grasping his new gunshot wound, the blood seeping through his trembling fingers. He groaned, scrunching his eyes shut.

Flea reached into a small pouch that was draped over his waist and took out what looked like bandages, a needle, and thread. "I have a feeling that you know how to sew up a wound, yes?" he said. "I see it in your hands, the callouses, the blisters. You probably spend a lot of time with a pistol, as well as a needle. An army's sniper and a medic! What could be better?"

He dropped the supplies beside Aramis shaking form, smiling.

"I wish you the best of luck," he continued. "Feel free to ask your companion, if you wish."

Aramis looked up at him and gritted his teeth. "Go … t-to … Hell," he whispered.

Flea's smile widened. "I will be back soon." His cold, black eyes fell on Anne. "Maybe I will go for her next."

With that, he left, slamming the trap door closed behind him. The minute he was gone, Aramis moaned, beginning to breathe heavily.

Anne scrambled up to him, sitting him against herself. She saw him struggling to keep his open, and she gently tapped his face to try and keep him awake. "Aramis, you must mend your wound," she said. "Then you could sleep."

Knowing that she was right, the wounded man nodded. He pointed to the supplies he was given, and Anne quickly retrieved them for him. He smiled weakly and opened up the bandages, from which a scalpel fell out. Sighing, Aramis got to work.

In what seemed like forever, Aramis was finally finished. He cleaned the scalpel and then stuck it in his boot. He planned to use it later…

… But right now, he couldn't be bothered.

He slumped against Anne, who had been patiently waiting for him to finish, feeling so much admiration towards him.

She was amazed how steady his hands were when he was stitching his wound. She couldn't believe that while the rest of his entire body was shaking violently, his hands were carefully, and knowingly, using the needle and thread.

Taking a closer look, she saw the blisters Flea had been talking about. Most of them were fading, but some of them were rather new. She was ashamed of herself for not noticing them sooner.

She was forced out of her thoughts when Aramis gave a quiet whimper. Anne knew that this was more than he could take. She took the bandages he had not used and folded them into a makeshift pillow. Pulling Aramis closer to him, Anne let his rest on the pillow she placed on her lap. She began running her hand through his damp locks.

"Rest," she said. "I will be here."

Aramis obeyed without question, and was asleep in seconds.


	4. Chapter 4

**New chapter! Enjoy!**

 **So, I am sorry that it's so short, but I decided that if I added anything else, it would just be strange.**

 **Warning, this chapter is a bit dark. I have just been in a rather bad place in my life right now, and the only way I can let it out is by making my stories somewhat sad and depressing. Sorry! It's nothing graphical, but it kinda puts a sad feel to the story. I still hope you like it. The next chapter will probably be even sadder. But, as you can see, I love angst, and what my mind tells me to write, I write. I just thought that this made sense. I have even more ideas for later! So bare with me.**

 **Please make sure to read and review! Thank you for all your support!**

 **-M**

* * *

As he woke up, pain, among pain, among more pain engulfed him. He gasped, afraid to open his eyes. When he did, his vision was blurry. He looked up and saw Anne, worriedly watching it.

"You had nightmares," she stated plainly. "Maybe you should rebandage your wound." She helped him sit, and then handed him the bandages they had left. Once again, she watched as her lover mended what he could.

When he finished, he let out a heavy breath, his arm wrapping around his waist. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

The Queen smiled weakly. "You have nothing to be sorry about," she said. She took his hand and squeezed gently, not paying attention to the blood covering it. "Nothing at all."

Just then, the trap door opened and Flea - as well as one guard - came in.

Without thinking, Aramis grabbed the scalpel he had his in his boot and lunged at their captor. He paid no mind to the pain in his side.

Flea easily took advantage of Aramis' weakness; he caught hold of the hand holding the weapon and brought his knee up to his side, making a point to hit his wound.

Aramis cried out, doubling over.

The leader kicked him to the ground, signaling his bandit to grab Anne.

Without even realizing it, Aramis was alone within seconds. When he heard the trap door close, the realization did sink in, and he felt guilt wash over him. He forced himself to get up and walk to the trap door. He began punching it, trying to get it open, calling for Flea. Begging him to let Anne go.

Soon enough, the energy that he somehow had in the beginning began to decrease. He took a few steps back from the ladder and collapsed, groaning as the impact sent pain shooting up his body.

He sat himself up against the wall, holding his knees against his chest, wanting himself to feel the burn. This was his punishment, he decided. This is what he would do to himself for not protecting his Queen.

So he sat there, counting the minutes that went by. He did not allow himself sleep; he forced himself to stay awake for her. For Anne.

In, what he counted was, five hours, the trap door opened, and Anne was shoved in. She hit the ground with a gasp, and it caused more guilt to seep into Aramis' soul for not catching her.

The Musketeer stood and began walking over to her, noticing how hard she was shaking. "Anne…?" he said gently, keeping his voice low.

The Queen opened her eyes and sat up, crying out when she saw another person in the room with her, especially a man. She scrambled into a corner, hugging her knees and shivering.

More realization began to creep in.

He still came over to her and kneeled down, quickly looking her over. She was wearing a thin nightgown; when she had the chance to change, Aramis did not know. Her hair was a complete mess, tangled and unruly. "Anne, it is I, Aramis," he began, trying hard not to pay attention to his wound. "Do you know who I am? Do you remember me?"

Anne looked up, tears in her eyes. "Aramis?" Her voice was so thin, almost a whisper. Her lover barely recognized her. This was not the Anne he knew.

The Musketeer reached his hand out towards her. "Yes, it's me, Anne," he assured her. "Come, you are safe now."

The woman, who now looked like nothing but a mere girl, obeyed, and allowed Aramis to pull her up. She locked gazes with him, her eyes full of fear and sadness.

"What did he do to you?" Aramis asked, rubbing away her tears with his thumb.

Hearing that question, Anne broke into a heavy sob. She rested her head and hands on his chest, her shaking getting worse.

And from that one motion, Aramis understood. Even more guilt began to take over him. "No," he murmured. "He didn't."

Anne looked up and nodded, more tears falling down her cheeks.

This time, anger spread through Aramis. He dashed over to the ladder and climbed up, screaming, "Flea! You bastard, come down here! You will not get away with this! I will kill you if it's the last thing I-"

"No, Aramis. I'm fine."

He turned around and sighed, walking back to Anne. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her tears on his skin. "You are not fine, Anne," he said. "He forced himself on you. I promise you, I will kill him for this."

Once again, Anne looked up at him. She shook her head this time. "I will be alright," she whispered. "I just … I will need some time."

In return, Aramis smiled slightly and said, "Whatever you need. I will be here for you."

Anne rested her head back on his chest again. "Thank you, Aramis," she breathed, feeling more tears coming down.

Her protector gently pulled her into an embrace as he sunk down against the wall. As she cried all the confusion and fear away, he continuously rubbed her back and soothed her, trying to provide her with some comfort.

In about an hour, she finally fell asleep, still trembling, and unable to stop.


	5. Chapter 5

**New chapter! I hope you enjoy. I don't know why you they're so short ... whatever. I still don't know when I'm going to end it. If you have any suggestions, please make sure to leave them in the reviews. Thank youuu!!!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-M**

* * *

On that same night, a storm hit the bandits' ship. As the boat continued to toss back and forth, Anne curled into Aramis, knowing that he would keep her safe. The shivering never stopped, and the memories of what those men had done to her would never leave her mind.

She was so grateful for her brave protector, who did everything he could to try and help her forget of what happened, or at least get her mind off of it…

"How about I tell you a story?" he asked suddenly, breaking her out of her trance. She gasped quietly, and felt him squeeze her gently.

"What kind of story?" she asked, her voice slightly shaking, but still steady. Thank

"Well, once, Porthos and I decided to play a joke on Athos," Aramis replied. "We had unhitched his horse's saddle, planning for him to fall off the minute he got on…"

Anne listened with her eyes closed, keeping Aramis' hand close to her heart. "Did you succeed?" she asked when the man paused.

Aramis chuckled. "Yes, and how funny it was," he said, kissing the top of her head. "Athos was so angry. I think he was ready to punch one of us ... Probably me, because this was my plan all along. I don't think I have ever laughed that hard. Porthos and I have never seen him so upset."

Anne laughed in return, a smile gracing her lips. "That was a good story," she said dreamily.

"I'm glad you liked it."

In a few hours, the storm finally subsided.

The minute the vessel seemed to still, Flea and two other bandits entered their room.

The Musketeer scrambled to sit up, pushing his Queen behind him. "What do you want?" he asked Flea. "What more can you do?"

Flea signaled the bandits without a word, who were about to grab Anne, when Aramis cried out, "No! Don't touch her."

He looked up at Flea, giving him a death glare.

"Take me, instead. Do whatever you want to me. But leave her alone."

A smile formed on the leader's face. "I think I would like that better," he said. "Take him." Once more, he signaled his men.

Aramis did not even try to struggle; he stood up willingly, wincing slightly when his gunshot wound was jostled.

"No, Aramis!" Anne screamed, thrashing against the man holding her. She glared at Flea, a thought forming in her mind. "As your Queen of France, I command you to let him go! If you don't, you will be facing treason!"

The leader paused, his eyes wide.

Aramis' eyes were wider, and after a few seconds, he began to shake his head. Tears were in his eyes. _Why?_ he mouthed. _Why, Anne?_

"So you're actually the Queen of France," Flea said, his eyes glued to Anne. He looked down at Aramis, who was still being held by one of his bandits. "And that must mean … that you are her Musketeer." He grinned. "No wonder…"

Now, he looked at his follower. "Take him up top," he said. "I want to make him suffer."

And without even realizing it, Aramis was gone.

Anne collapsed, placing her head in his hands. "What have I done?" she whispered. "What have I done?"

XxXxX

Aramis was thrown onto the ship's deck rather forcefully. He willed himself into not moaning, and, thankfully, succeeded. He closed his eyes against the burning sun, running his hand over his face.

"Now that I know who you are," he heard Flea say. "I will have _so_ much more fun with you two."

"You bastard," Aramis snarled. "What the bloody hell do you want from us? The Queen herself gave you an order. It would be in your best interest to follow it."

"Nobody will come for you, Musketeer," Flea replied. "You will die here, knowing that you were not able to protect your lover."

Aramis twitched.

"Oh come now, I see how you act towards her," the other man continued. "Clearly, you two love each other." He smirked, and kneeled down. "I can see right through you," he muttered. "You have no chance." He stood back up. "Now … Let's begin!"

Bandits surrounded him, and Aramis mentally prepared himself for the pain he was about to feel. He closed his eyes again, tensing. He still wasn't as prepared as he wanted to be for the first blow.

XxXxX

Anne sat against the wall, hugging herself and staring at nothing. At this point, there were no more tears for her to shed, so now all she could do is wait.

She gasped when she heard a thud. Looking up, she saw a crumpled body on the ground, trembling.

 _Aramis._

The Queen jumped on her feet and ran towards him, quickly gathering her Musketeer in her arms. "Oh my God, Aramis!" she exclaimed, her eyes running over his battered body.

The man was shirtless, covered in cuts, bruises, and burns. It was like someone had held a torch to his body. Above all else, he was soaked, and cold to the touch. It was terrifying to see.

"It's alright, Aramis, I have you," Anne murmured, remembering how he said almost the same thing all but a day ago. "Everything is going to be just fine."

Aramis' eyes cracked open, and he smiled ever so slightly. It was nothing compared to his real smile. "Anne," he breathed.

The Queen kissed the top of his head, running her fingers through his damp locks. "I'm here now," she said. "Just sleep. Everything will be alright."

Aramis moaned as he moved his head to look at her. "No, Anne," he whispered, taking her hand. "It won't be." The tears were back in his eyes again. "I failed you."

With that, he grunted and closed his eyes, his body going limp.

Anne sighed, resting her chin on his head. She began rubbing his hand, feeling the tears coming back. "You did not fail me, Aramis," she said. "Quite the opposite. And for that, I thank you. Thank you so, so much."


	6. Chapter 6

**New chapter! I'm actually really happy with this chapter, because (1) it's the longest chapter of all and (2) it really has lot's of detail that I think I did a good job on. So what do you think? Please make sure to read and review, because you now how happy those make me.**

 **Virtual hugs to all who have reviewed, favorited, and followed this story. I love you all!**

 **Anyway, enjoy. There's still a lot that will have to be written for this story. :)**

 **-M**

* * *

Porthos and Athos had spent two weeks on water, frantically searching for their Queen and for their brother. They stopped any ship that they came across, looking through each one and asking the sailors questions.

Still, nothing.

And while the two of them were on the boat, Treville and d'Artagnan were back in Paris, ready for any news.

Still, nothing.

They were all growing frustrated as each day passed, Porthos especially.

The big man was leaning against the deck's railing, staring at the water, when another vessel came in sight. He sighed. "Athos! Another ship!"

Athos came out and nodded. "Something tells me that this is more than a traveler's vessel," he said, exchanging glances with his friend.

"Aramis," Porthos breathed.

As they neared closer to the boat, they saw two familiar figures surrounded by men. The Musketeers realized that they were bandits…

… And that the two familiar figures were Aramis and the Queen.

"Oh my God," Athos whispered. He turned around and ran to get the other Musketeers. The minute they were all assembled, the Captain yelled, "ATTACK!"

They all jumped onto the opposite ship, muskets and rapiers on the ready.

Porthos ran for Aramis and Anne, taking out a dagger, calling for his brother's name, and then throwing the weapon over to him.

Aramis caught it with ease, but Porthos saw the pain that the movement caused him. The marksman smirked weakly and jerked his head at Anne, as if telling Porthos to get her to safety. The man nodded in return, walking over to the Queen.

He watched as Aramis whispered something in his lover's ear, turned, and ran for a man who had just shoved his blade through a Musketeer's heart. Porthos realized that this man was the leader.

Deciding not to pay attention to it any further, Porthos looked back at Anne, noticing how small she looked. He smiled, and then said, "Do not worry, Majesty, Aramis will be just fine. How about I get you to our boat?"

She nodded in return.

In a couple of minutes, the two of them were on the boat. Anne collapsed the minute she hit the ground. She felt Porthos kneel down beside her and take her hand.

"I will go and help Aramis," he explained. "Please, just stay here.." Without waiting for an answer, he turned back around and ran towards the battle.

He ran to Aramis, who was practically being strangled by the leader of the bandits. Porthos kicked the man away, and caught Aramis in his arms. "Come now, Aramis, I'm sure you won't mind if I join in."

Aramis gasped for air and looked up, smirking. "Not at all, my friend, not at all," he replied. He straightened, and then looked back at Flea. "This is for what you did to Anne," he growled, and then lunged at the leader, driving his dagger into Flea's heart. Once standing back up, he sighed, and said, "Can we _please_ get out of here?" His eyes were suddenly washed over with pain and exhaustion, and he practically leaned on Porthos without being able to help it.

Porthos caught him and smiled slightly. "Yes, Aramis, we can get out of here. You need it more than anyone."

They began running back to the Musketeer vessel.  
Porthos was first to jump on, and the whipped around to make sure Aramis was going to make it. Anne was right next to him in seconds, and so was Athos.

But just as Aramis was about to jump, a cry and a gunshot sounded.

The injured Musketeer was pushed forward, hitting his back against the opposite boat, and falling into the water. Blood pooled all around him.

"Aramis!" Porthos screamed, taking out his own musket and shooting the bandit that decided to take his revenge on Aramis. The bigger man did not miss.

He and Anne suddenly heard another splash, and realized that someone - probably Athos - had gone after Aramis. In a couple of seconds, their prediction was proven correct when Athos surfaced the water, with Aramis in his arms. They noticed the bleeding wound in the soldier's shoulder.

Quickly, Porthos ran to get a rope ladder and draped it over the boat, waiting for Athos to climb up. When the two of them were in reach, Porthos grabbed Aramis, and gentle pulled him onboard. He fell to the ground, holding his precious, trembling burden in his embrace. "Set course for Paris!" he yelled to the Captain of the ship. "Or anywhere, I don't care! Just get us out of here." Under his breath, he added, "Get _him_ out of here."

Without even realizing it, he, Anne, and Athos got Aramis into a room below the ship. They laid him down on a bed, and then began trying to mend his wound.

Athos got the sewing supplies, and then he got to work.

In the meantime, Anne had sat herself in a chair, and was now sitting with her knees against her chest, tears silently making their way down her cheeks. She stared at Aramis while his friends took the musket ball out of his shoulder. She forced herself to listen to his quiet groans. She listened to what his brothers were saying, and understood that they were just as hurt as she was, if not more. She blamed herself for it all.

 _I failed you,_ he had said. He thought that this was all his fault, when in reality, it was her's. How would he forgive her…? He had never even heard her say that it wasn't his fault. They had never even had the chance to talk about it…

"Your Majesty."

Banishing the thoughts from her mind, Anne wiped away her tears and looked up, finding herself staring at Porthos. She smiled weakly and stood up, hugging herself. "Porthos," she began, her voice shaking. "Before I forget, I would like to thank you for the rescue. I do not know what would have happened to us if you didn't"

The soldier shook his head. "Any Musketeer would have risked his life searching for his Queen and his brother," he explained. "There's no question about it."

"I'm sure," Anne said. She found her eyes straying away to Aramis, and this time, she was not able to look away.

Porthos sighed, and took her hand, surprised when she jumped a little. "Aramis is a fighter, Your Majesty," he said softly. "He has survived so much more, and he will not leave us now. He will not leave _you._ At least, not until he said a proper goodbye. And he knows that it is not the time for that. Whatever he has suffered in the past few weeks, he will get through it. And so will you … You are one of the most strongest women I have ever met, and that is a promise."

Anne laughed quietly. "Thank you, Porthos," she whispered.

"Anything for you, Majesty," the man replied. "Now, how about you get some rest. I promise to wake you up when he does." He pointed to Aramis, whom Athos was now bandaging. His face was full of pain, even with his eyes closed, and his body was incredibly tense.

The Queen nodded. "I am probably in need of some sleep, aren't I?"

XxXxX

As he woke, Aramis felt nothing but pain. It was like his mind was finally allowing him to really _feel_ it now that they were safe. He groaned, fisting his hand in his hair. More agony spread through his shoulder and down to his hand, and he sucked in a breath to try and control it.

"Easy there, Aramis," a familiar voice said. "You have to be careful with that arm."

"P-Porthos…?"

"I'm here," the big man replied.

Opening his eyes, the marksman saw his brother sitting in front of him, a concerned and worried expression on his face. "How are you feeling, my friend?"

Aramis quickly sat up, sighing. "I'm fine," he replied. "Where is she?"

"Sleeping," Porthos said. He opened his mouth to speak, but them stopped himself. Once figuring out what to say, he took a breath and began, "Something was wrong with her, Aramis. She jumped when I touched her, and she doesn't jump, she's the Queen for God's sakes. Do you know something." When seeing Aramis' face go deathly white, he knew that he was right. "You know something," he stated grimly.

The other man nodded. "Those bandits…," he said quietly. "They … did … something to her." He looked up, hoping - _praying_ \- that Porthos would understand.

Thankfully, he did.

"No," he whispered. "They didn't."

Aramis scoffed. "Funny, that was the same thing I had said." His voice was emotionless.

"Aramis, if the King finds out about this … he threatened to kill you if she came out of this unharmed."

"Well then, let's pray that Anne is a good actor."

Porthos shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I will tell Athos," he finally said. "Don't worry, nobody else will know."

Aramis grunted, pushing himself up to his feet. "Fine." He watched Porthos leave the room, and when he was gone, he trudged over to Anne's bed. Sitting beside her, he his hand through her messy hair, smiling at her beauty. "I am sorry, Anne," he murmured, fisting his hands. "For all of this. I am so, so sorry."

XxXxX

"I cannot believe they did that to her," Athos breathed out. "And what about Aramis?"

"I have a feeling he's blaming himself," Porthos answered, his voice sad. "We know how good he is at that."

"Well, we sure know one thing," Athos continued. "If Louis finds out about this, I doubt that Aramis will have a chance of surviving."

"Let's hope that you're wrong, Athos," the bigger man said. "For Aramis' sake, let's hope that you are."


	7. Chapter 7

**New Chapter! Yay! Not much happens in this one, but I feel like it's pretty important to the story, so here it is. I hope you enjoy!**

 **Please make sure to read and review!**

 **-M**

* * *

Anne leaned against her protector, staring at the docks of Paris. "We're home, Aramis," she said. "We're finally home."

Her lover squeezed her hand in return and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to her temple in return. "We still have a lot ahead of us," he muttered, kissing her head again.

When their ship docked and ramp was let out, the two of them exchanged glances and then began walking off the boat. They got onto the boardwalk, holding onto each other. Aramis immediately saw two figures that he recognized instantly.

 _D'Artagnan. And Treville._

Once reaching them, Aramis was embraced by his youngest brother. The motion made him gasp, but he hugged d'Artagnan back, gently patting his back while doing so. "It's good to be back, brother," he whispered, closing his eyes.

Suddenly he was in Treville's arms, and a feeling of safety washed over him the minute the Minister embraced him. "Hello, Captain," he teased, burying his face in the other man's doublet.

"Thank God you're safe," Treville said. When Aramis let out a whimper, he pulled away and looking him over. "You need a physician … and rest," he continued, giving Aramis' uninjured shoulder a squeeze. Then, he turned to Anne. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing his head. "I am so glad that you are safe."

"Thanks to Aramis," the Queen replied, smiling slightly. "I would not be here if not for him."

Treville turned to the Musketeer. "A job well done, son," he said softly. "Thank you."

Aramis nodded in return.

He exchanged glances with Anne one more time, and then he and the Musketeers were on their way to the garrison, while the Queen and Treville, as well as a few guards, started towards the Palace.

The minute Aramis stepped through the Garrison's threshold, he collapsed onto a bench, placing his head in a hand. He took a deep breath, feeling his ribs shifting slightly. Closing his eyes, he shook his head, guilt and hurt washing over him.

"Aramis."

He looked up and saw Porthos watching him, compassion in his eyes. He smiled weakly, feeling nothing of the happiness he had wanted to show. "I'm fine, Porthos," he said, his voice quiet and tired. "Just … exhausted. Did you call the physician?" The question wasn't pleading; it was curious. Aramis really _did not_ want anyone checking him over. He knew well enough how injured he was. Without even noticing, he checked the bandage on his shoulder; all the commotion and movement had opened the wound back up, and there was blood leaking through the fabric.

"Athos is getting him," the big man replied, placing his large, but gentle, hand on Aramis' forearm and smiling. "Stop blaming yourself," he went on. "None of this was your fault. Know that." He took his index finger and lightly poked his friend's chest. "You know, in your heart, that you did everything you could do. It was your heart that still continued fighting even when there seemed to be no choice. That is how you survived. That is how you saved Anne."

Aramis shook his head. "I could have done more, Porthos," he argued. "Instead, I let _them_ bring her so much pain, and heartbreak." He closed his eyes, sighing. "I will never forgive myself for this."

XxXxX

Days passed, and Aramis heard no news of his Anne. He began to grow worried, but began to realize that this was all the King's doing. But that also meant that Anne was doing a good job hiding the truth; Aramis didn't know if he was worried, or relieved.

And while he was at the Garrison, Anne was living in the Palace, tormented everyday. Nightmares plagued her every day and every night, and because she knew that nobody could know about this, she kept them to herself.

Louis knew nothing, or at least thing she thought he knew nothing. She still kept her distance from him, never saying anything that she did not need to say.

But slowly, the King began getting suspicious. He even tried to talk to Anne about it, but the Queen just waved him off and said that it was nothing. So he sent a message to the Garrison, calling for Aramis.  
A few days later, the Musketeer arrived at the Palace, slightly terrified for what Louis was going to say to him. As he waited for his King, he kept on pacing, his hand in his hair.

"His Majesty will see you now, Aramis."  
He jerked and looked up, seeing Treville staring at him, his eyes warm, but also worried. "Don't worry, Aramis, everything will be fine," he continued, squeezing his soldier's forearm. He felt the other man shaking slightly under his touch, and he couldn't help but feel pity for Aramis. "Just go on."

The Musketeer took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Thank you, Treville," he said quietly.

And he went in.

And the next thing he knew, he was standing in front of His Highness, who was _glaring_ right at him.

"You … You wanted to see me, Majesty?" he asked, trying hard to keep his voice steady. "Is everything alright?"

Louis shook his head. "No, Aramis, it is not," he replied. Aramis did not know if his tone was angry, or just _upset._ "I need you to answer a couple of questions for me … Questions about the Queen."

 _This is it,_ Aramis thought. _This is the end._

He cleared his throat. "What … questions?"

The King stood up, his hands balling into fists. "What _happened_ on that ship?" he asked coldly.

Aramis straightened. "Your Majesty, Minister Treville has already told you everything that I had told you. You know everything."

"Then explain to me why my wife recoils from my touch! Explain to me why she can't spend even five minutes in the same room as me! Explain to me why she is so _afraid_ of everything!" Louis yelled. "I will ask you again, Aramis, what happened on that damned ship?!"

Poor Aramis was taken aback from the questions. He sighed and locked gazes with his King. "While we were on the ship," he finally started. "The bandits, without me being there to help, took her and…" His voice caught, but he forced himself to continue, "… and forced themselves on her."

The minute Louis heard this, his eyes widened. He stepped back, his hand going for his head. "Why didn't you tell me this?" he asked, his voice calmer, but just as cold.

"I-I had thought that Her Majesty would have told you," Aramis answered. "It wasn't my secret to tell."

Louis nodded. "Very well, Aramis, you are dismissed," he said. "I will speak to Anne about this myself." He watched the other man nod, watched him leave the throne room. He let out a breath and groaned. He cursed quietly, and then began making his way towards his quarters.


	8. Chapter 8

**New chapter! Sorry for it's shortness.**

 **Again, not much really happens - in my opinion - but I needed to put this in so I can keep going with the story. I think that the next chapter will be the lats one, but I'm still not sure.**

 **Still, I hope you enjoy! Please make sure to read and review!**

 **-M**

* * *

That same night, Aramis was called back into the Palace. The minute he arrived, he knew that something was wrong.

"Aramis." It was Treville again. He looked even more worried than before. "Come quickly. It's Her Majesty."

"What's wrong?" Aramis asked, walking towards his former Captain.

"She's having a nightmare," Treville explained. "Why didn't you tell me about what they did to her?"

More guilt washed over him in that one moment. "I-"

"Never mind that," the other man interrupted. "She was calling for you and nobody can wake her up. She needs you. Now."

And then he was outside Anne's room. The King was standing behind it, resting his head against the wood. Every time Anne screamed, he flinched. When he and Aramis locked gazes, he said, "I don't care what you do, just _help_ her. Please."

Aramis nodded and went in.

He saw Anne, writhing on her bed, calling _his_ name. "Aramis," she was whimpering. "Aramis where are you? Please … Don't leave me."

The Musketeer fell on his knees beside her, taking his Queen's shaking hand and squeezing it. "I'm right here, Your Majesty - Anne," he began, keeping his voice low and gentle. "You're safe; you're at the Palace. Those bandits are gone, and they are not coming back. Nobody can hurt you anymore."

Suddenly, Anne gasped, her eyes snapping open. "Aramis!" she cried, bursting into heavy sobs. The minute her lover sat on the bed, she forced herself into his arms, unable to stop herself. "Oh God, Aramis, they won't leave me alone," she whispered.

Aramis knew that feeling all too well. The minute she said it, the memories of Savoy hit him, and he couldn't help but feel even more guilty. "I know," was all he was able to say. He kissed the top of her head gently, rubbing her arm back and forth to try and provide her with some comfort. "I know."

A few hours later, Aramis finally put Anne to sleep. As he left her room, he felt sadness wash over him. He was then staring at the King, who had the expression of someone who was ready to kill. "Your Majesty, the Queen and I are just friends, that's all," he was quick to say. "I love her like any of my close friends, and I would - _will_ \- do anything for her."

Louis sighed. "I will forget that this ever happened," he began. "I will not punish you because I am still very grateful for all you have done for my wife. We will not speak of this again."

And with that, he left.

Aramis breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank you, Your Majesty," he whispered.

When he returned to the Garrison, his three friends were practically dying to find out what had happened. Porthos led his friend to a bench and gave him some wine, immediately noticing how pale Aramis was, and how quiet.

"What happened?" he asked him, patting Aramis' arm while the other man chugged down his drink.

The marksman grunted as he finished the alcohol off, wiping his mouth and placing his head in his hands. "She had a nightmare," he explained. "She was calling _my_ name, and couldn't wake up until I came. She was so … scared. Those bandits just won't leave her conscious alone." He sighed. "I know that feeling all too well," he added softly, closing his tired eyes.

XxXxX

While he was sleeping that night, Aramis was also plagued with nightmares, which were all incredibly difficult to bear. They all showed Anne, calling for him, the bandits taking her away. Flea smashing a dagger through her heart, laughing as her body thudded to the ground. The pain that took ahold of him as she stared at her lifeless body...

He was finally able to wake up from one of them when he felt someone shaking him.

He gasped awake, reaching for the dagger he had put on his bedside table. His vision was slightly blurry, and he couldn't see very well.

"Aramis, it's alright," the one shaking him said. "It's me … Porthos."

"Porthos?" Aramis asked, his vision clearing up. He slumped back into the covers, rubbing his forehead. He let out a weary chuckle and said, "And now those bandits won't leave _my_ conscious."

"I know how hard this is for you, my friend," Porthos said. "But you, and Anne, will get through this. Some day."

"I know that, Porthos, but it still doesn't help," Aramis replied. "The 'getting - through - it' part won't pass quick enough. And I don't care about myself … I care about Anne, and only her. She has to deal with so much just because I wasn't there to protect her. What kind of Musketeer does that make me?"

"Hey!" Porthos exclaimed, slapping his friend's hand. "Don't you dare say that! You did everything you could, how many times do I have to tell you that? If you didn't protect her, she wouldn't have survived. You have get that through your thick headed skull. Right now, what happened is in the past. What you have to focus on, is trying to help her through it. This will never be forgotten, but at least you will have closure."

Slowly, Aramis nodded. "Thank you, Porthos, for all of this," he finally said. "You're right." He smiled slightly. "You always are."

The big man chuckled. "I'm not sure about that. Usually, I'm the one that ends up being wrong and gets everyone into a bunch of trouble." He paused, as if thinking. Finally, he said, "How about we go to a tavern?" he then asked. "I doubt that you would want to sleep anymore, even though you need it." His eyes lit up. "Nothing that a little liquor can't fix!"

Aramis laughed in return. "Why not? I really don't want to sleep any longer anyway."

He got out of his bed and put on his uniform … and then he and Porthos were off to their favorite tavern, where they drank, laughed, and forgot about all their worries.


	9. Chapter 9

**So this is the last chapter! Sorry for such a long wait, and such a short chapter. You know how awful I am at ending my stories. I hope you can forgive me, and can still enjoy this chapter.**

 **I have a couple new stories planned out, so I will get on that soon. In the meantime, please read and review. Thanks for all the support you have given me during this story, as well as over TWENTY COMMENTS! That means so much to me. I didn't expect it at all. Thank you.**

 **Also, what else would you like me to write about? Do you have any suggestions? Please make sure to tell me. I would love more of your feedback and ideas!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-M**

* * *

On the next day, Aramis woke to a slight hangover, the memories from the other night _and_ those bandits' ship coming back to him. He groaned, his hand running through his unruly locks. "Damn," he cursed, closing his eyes.

He still couldn't believe that this was real, that all this had really happened to him. And Anne. Even more guilt washed over him, his heart literally burning. He had felt lost in his life before, but it was nothing compared to this. He had let the love of his life, get hurt, and hadn't been able to save her. That was worth more pain than being shot over five times!

Aramis was barely able to force himself out of bed. He looked at himself through his mirror, eyeing the awful-looking scars that marred his body. As used to them as he was, he still looked at them with hatred, since they reminded him of his utter failure.

As he came down for morning muster, his body aching. He immediately ran into Athos, who practically _shoved_ a letter in his face.

"Her Majesty would like to see you," he explained. "The letter just came in ten minutes ago. Here's the letter."

Aramis took it and opened it up. In perfect, beautiful handwriting it read:

 _Aramis,_

 _I would really like to see you. Come to the Palace gardens as soon as you get this letter. I will be waiting._

 _-Anne_

The Musketeer smiled, pushing the piece of paper close to his chest. "Will you be able to continued without me?" he asked.

Athos nodded. "I'll be fine. You go on and talk to her. I have a feeling she needs you more than she knows."

"Thank you, Athos," the markman replied, his grin growing wider. "I will be back soon."

"Aren't you gonna say goodbye?" another familiar voice asked. "I'm hurt."

Turning around, Aramis smiled again, his eyes shining as Porthos walked over to him and hugged him tight. "I am sorry, my friend, I should have known better," he said, patting the bigger man's back. Once pulling away, he said," You know, I never thought of you as a emotional type."

Porthos, in turn, ruffled his best friend's hair. He grinned when he received a dirty look from the marksman. "Don't get used to it, brother, I'm just grateful that you're home."

Aramis nodded. "Me too," he replied. "I will see you soon, Porthos."

With that, he jumped on a horse and rode to the Palace, where he quickly and quietly made his way to the gardens, keeping his head only raised it when he heard shuffling, and at that time, he knew that it was Anne. He smiled, quickly making his way to her.

"Anne," he said softly, He looked around cautiously before taking her hand and squeezing it gently. "How are you?"

Without thinking, the Queen gently wrapped her arms around her lover, burying her head in his chest. "I have missed you," she whispered. "I was not sure if it was safe to call you, but after a couple of days, I realized that I needed to see you." She took a deep breath and looked up, feeling tears in her eyes. "Oh God, Aramis, I do not know how much longer I can do this for," she said.

Aramis immediately pulled her close. "Hey," he said, keeping his voice calm and low. "Everything will be alright. You will get through this. We will both get through this. I know how hard this is, but you are strong. You can do this, Anne. I know you can."

Anne shook her head. "I can't," she continued. "They keep haunting me."

"I know," Aramis replied. "I know that feeling all too well."

Looking up again, Anne sighed. "Walk with me," she finally said, taking his hand. "I need to clear my head."

For the next hour, the two of them walked through the garden, hand in hand. They talked, and they laughed, and they finally relaxed. When they got tired of walking, they sat down on a bench, holding onto each other.

"What would have happened to us if those bandits hadn't captured us?" Anne asked after a couple of minutes of pure silence.

Her Musketeer planted a quick kiss to her head, pulling her closer to himself. "Something else would have happened that caused both our lives to change," he said. "Changes are not something we can avoid."

Smirking weakly, Anne slapped Aramis' arm. "Since when did you get so … what's the word … smart?"

A chuckle erupted from Aramis' mouth; Anne liked the way his chest rumbled from the motion, how it somehow gave her this feeling of warmth, and safety. "It's a gift," she heard him say. "And what do you mean 'since when'?"

Now it was her turn to laugh. "You know what I mean.

"You know what I mean," she said. "And you really think so?"

"I know so, Anne," Aramis replied. "Everything happens for a reason. Maybe God has forced this burden upon us to try and get us to learn something. Something important. Maybe we will never know what it is, but…"

"Love," Anne suddenly interrupted.

"Hmm?"

"He wanted to teach us love," she explained. "He wanted to show us that no matter what, love will always prevail."

"Now who's the wise one?"

Anne scoffed. She leaned back against Aramis, taking his hand. "Thank you, Aramis," she finally said. "For everything. Without you, I probably would not even be here. Without you, I would never be able to get through this. You are my savior, and you don't know how much I love you for it."

Aramis smiled. "I think I may have an idea," he said, squeezing her again. "And do not worry, I will be there for you. Always. I will guard you with my life if I will need to, and I will do that with pride. You are my everything, Anne. You forever will be."

From that moment forward, the two of them sat in the gardens for what seemed like even more hours, finding comfort in being in each other's embraces.

And even with all the hardships they faced, and would face in the future, their love would always stay. It would always prevail. It would always keep them safe, and happy.

Always.


End file.
